The Fart-teenth Amendment

How could a late start Wednesday possibly go wrong, you ask? Well, there are many ways, but one is perhaps far more worse than the others… and it just so happened that I became a victim of it.Everything was routine. Wake up, shower, eat, get yelled at by my sister for taking too long and then finally leave. My day was starting off great. And to top it all off, I walked into my first period to find out it was going to be an independent reading day. You gotta love a nice early morning read.My seat was by the back and right up against the wall, so it was practically my second bed. The only thing I didn’t have going for me was the people sitting next to me. Hate is a strong word, so let’s just say I strongly disliked these people. What they were about to do to me was beyond crossing the line. It violated every single unwritten school law.About 30 minutes into the period, the reading was going well and the class went dead silent. But the silence didn’t last long, as about 20 seconds later a monstrous fart slipped through the cracks of the seat in front of me. I’m talking a post P.F. Chang’s, in the car with your boys, windows up and heat on full blast kind of fart. Like even MY seat vibrated, it was insane. Sure, I felt bad for the person, but the main thing going through my mind was to make sure people knew it wasn’t me. And of course, being the worst seat partner anyone could ever ask for, the person in front of me, who was obviously having trouble digesting the family size Kung Pao Chicken and Fried Rice from the night before, decided to look back at me – clearly trying to turn the tables and frame me for whatever was murdered in their bowels.So, the next thing I knew, everyone in class started to give me that look. The classic, “oh, you hate to see it,” look. At that point, you can’t defend yourself. The call was decided, and I got screwed just like the Saints in the NFC Championship. As much as I would have loved to take that one up to the booth to review it and overturn the call, I knew it was non-reviewable. The fart was mine. What used to be pure happiness turned into insoluble rage and my once-a-week late start Wednesday was forever ravaged by the lowest form of human being, a person ashamed of their own flatulence.